


Sunshine (In The Palm of Your Hands)

by markjin



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, Markjin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markjin/pseuds/markjin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinyoung considers himself a bad person, and that power and authority is everything a person needs in life. Jinyoung thinks he needs no warmth, needs no friends. But then Mark came like a blazing sun and suddenly Jinyoung can't let this sunshine go.</p><p>(inspired by Sanctuary)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine (In The Palm of Your Hands)

Jinyoung considers himself as a bad person. It was just the way he was brought up, the way he sees the world. Unforgiving, cruel, dark. He’s witnessed enough to conclude that no, goodness doesn’t bring you places -- power does. So when he crosses the field at the academy, 4 other guys trailing behind him like lost dogs, he knows he’s powerful. He loves it; the stares when he walks, his leather jacket hugging his figure like a second skin. He loves the thrill, beating cowards that is on his way. Beating, beating, beating. It’s the relief of the pressure, the hatred that has build up inside him, manifested into the punches that leaves bruises, marks. He can live like this forever, be the ruler of the damned world. No one would care, no one would notice a scar on his face when he goes back home. So he would punch, kick, beat up, rip skin and watch people crumble into a mess, like himself. Because that is what Jinyoung is; a mess.

But then _he_ came unprecedented, like the first bolt out of the blue. Like an unexpected rain in the middle of the fucking sahara, and Jinyoung doesn’t hate it so much. _He_ approached first, with a brave “Hey!” that usually calls for a beating from Jinyoung and his gang of people. Jinyoung wouldn’t call his gang of people friends, Jinyoung doesn’t do friends. Jinyoung does accomplices and watchdogs but never friends. But _he_ , _he_ looks calm and bright and Jinyoung wants to hate it, wants to beat it and steal it away from _him_ , but he can’t. Can’t let the sunshine go, can’t let the rain leave him dry. Jinyoung understands enough English; “Can I come along?”. He nodded at _him_ , earning disbelieving stares from the rest of his gang. The others had it the hard way, having to fight their way in. But he doesn’t care, when did he ever care anyway? Now _he_ is also one of the lost dogs, except _he_ is more puppy than dog, feels more like friend than puppy. Jinyoung feels _him_ when _he’s_ close behind, shirts a size too big, hair blond and styled down as _he_ watches Jinyoung from behind _his_ bangs. Jinyoung never sees _him_ smile, in his gang no one smiles but him, and he almost hates himself for never seeing _him_ smile.

Jinyoung knows _his_ name after the 1st week: Mark.

The letters are written in white bold fonts over the blond’s black iPhone case, and he wants to say it, try it between his lips.

“Mark.” Jinyoung whispers, a tad too loud, and he hates himself but it’s too late as he watches Mark raises his head away from his phone and onto Jinyoung’s direction.

Mark is unmoving, staring at him with eyes full of question. Beautiful, hazel eyes Jinyoung hates to stare for another second. So he moved his head away and said the words instead - an order. A command, because that is who Jinyoung is, the one in charge.

“Get me food.”

Mark was never the one who got Jinyoung’s food, it was always that guy Sangchul’s job. So Mark watches him, confused. Jinyoung loves being stared at by the rest of the world, but not Mark. He hates how Mark stares at him. It’s giving him the fucking shivers.

“Ya! Aren’t you going to get me food? Do I need to tell you twice?” Jinyoung used his in-command voice, and he hates it. He hates how Mark doesn’t flinch even for a bit, hates how he calmly puts his phone down into his pocket and walks, away from Jinyoung, like he’ll never come back.

***

It’s the first time Mark talks to him. Korean heavily accented, eyes looking down. Mark passes him a foil-wrapped kimbap and a styrofoam box of mandu, and Mark sits beside him on the public bench. He’s alone now, he sent his watchdogs home. He should have asked Mark to just pass the food and leave, but he doesn’t feel the need to get rid of the boy.

“I like the food in this place.” Mark said.

Jinyoung doesn’t feel like talking. He unwraps the kimbap, eats in his silence.

“Try the mandu too!” Mark said, a little excitement laced in his voice and Jinyoung noticed. It was hard to miss.

Mark grabs the box of mandu and opens it, unwrapping the chopsticks. He picks one up and brought it to Jinyoung’s mouth. Jinyoung’s initial reaction was surprise, then shock, because not a single day that he remembers he has someone voluntarily wanting to feed him. Jinyoung stares at Mark, maybe he should get angry. He should throw the kimbap at Mark and slap his face but he stays silent, staring at Mark like the other one has gone crazy.

“Open up.” Mark says, and Jinyoung looks away, chewing on his kimbap.

“You don’t like mandu?” Mark asks, putting the mandu on his mouth instead. “This is so good.”

Jinyoung tried, to not watch as Mark’s face light up, mandu after mandu. Mark looks like a child, the untainted kind. Unlike how he used to be. Jinyoung tried so hard to resist, tried to keep his voice to himself, but his curiosity eats on him, and he spoke up.

“Give me one.”

Mark actually stares at him, disbelief clear as day. But he went with it, raising a piece of mandu to Jinyoung’s mouth. Which he duly accepted.

“It’s good right?” Mark said, trying to get the recognition.

Jinyoung nods carefully, watching as the corner of Mark’s lips turn upward ever so slightly that none would notice. Jinyoung wants to die, he hates how much he likes Mark’s smile.

***

It was his second beating of the day, and Jinyoung can feel the blood rushing through him as he punches the damned guy from Namyangju, Kim Yugyeom. He was strong, but not strong enough for Jinyoung. This was the only time he really had to put up a fight before Yugyeom raised his hands up in the air to admit his defeat. Jinyoung is in tatters, he is tired and his forehead is bleeding and he is slightly dizzy, but who cares? His watchdogs are busy clutching their dislocated elbows and shoulders, but Mark is not there. Mark is never there when he’s on his fighting escapades, but he would always wait on the sidelines and Jinyoung almost does not want him to be there. Jinyoung never knows if it was judgment whenever he looks at Mark’s eyes, but it was almost akin to worry.

“Where’s Mark?” Jinyoung shouted. His mouth tasted like blood.

His guys are just shaking their heads, groaning.

Hopeless, Jinyoung thinks as he leaves them behind.

He knows, by instinct, that Mark is on the back of the academy playing with the reeds below the bridge. So he goes, and he doesn’t understand the pang in his chest when he sees that Mark is indeed there, and the sun was shining, but Mark was brighter. Jinyoung wants to grab Mark, tell him: I did it! But this was never something to be proud of. He can win against the strongest of gang leaders and Mark wouldn’t give him a genuine smile.

“Hey!” Jinyoung said, he tried to keep it strict, but he notices the shaking in his voice.

Mark looks up at him, dropping the reed he was twiddling in between his fingers. Mark doesn’t say anything. He just stands up, putting both his hands into his jeans’ pockets.

Jinyoung watches as Mark looks at him, eyes suddenly dark and gloomy, a contrast to his blond and bright hair.

“Were you always here?” Jinyoung asked. He tried to sound stern and pushy, like indicating why Mark wasn’t there helping the rest of them. He knows he looks like a mess, but he hopes he got his message across.

Mark actually smiles, the second time Jinyoung ever saw him smile. “I’m not fighting anymore, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t understand how Mark understands the things he doesn’t say.

Jinyoung can feel that Mark is trying so hard to keep something in his mind, to not say it out loud. But Jinyoung wants to know, Jinyoung wants to understand what is going on in Mark’s mind. Jinyoung wouldn’t even care if Mark just thinks he’s a fucking idiot because he just wants to know, wants to understand Mark.

“Say it.” Jinyoung bravely says. “What’s on your mind, say it.”

But Mark isn’t saying a word, and Jinyoung sees this behavior a thousand times. When Jinyoung scolds his guys and demands an answer from Mark as well, Mark would stay quiet when he really thinks there’s nothing to say.

“Fucking say it!” Jinyoung shouts, charging towards Mark like an enraged bull, grabbing Mark by the collar and throwing him against a pillar.

Mark just looks at him, pupils dilated, but not a single shiver of fear. Jinyoung throws his hand down, away from Mark, crouching on the ground and clutching his throbbing head.

“You’re bleeding.” Mark says. Jinyoung looks up, and Mark is towering over him, eyes deep with what Jinyoung understands as worry.

Mark looks at him, and Jinyoung tries to look anywhere but at Mark.

“What do you get from this?” Mark says.

Jinyoung stays quiet. He hates these kinds of question, he knows he’s bound to get one, but he doesn’t know that it’s going to be Mark. Quiet and calm but bright Mark who looks like he can calm down the universe, calm down a storm, calm down Park Jinyoung.

“Is it the adrenaline, Jinyoung?” Mark asks, crouching finally.

“Is it the thrill of being in power?” Mark asks, brushing Jinyoung’s bangs with his fingers.

“Is it the attention?” Mark asks again, fingers caressing the back of Jinyoung’s neck and he just wants to drown instead, because this suffocates him.

“Is it because you crave the acknowledgment?” Mark inches his face closer now, his forehead almost hitting Jinyoung’s. “Someone to tell you: ‘great job’ or ‘well done’?”

Jinyoung’s heart is hammering out of control, and he feels small -- small when Mark presses their forehead together and Jinyoung feels like he’s still 4, before his parents left him, before the world tainted his faith in kindness.

“What is it, Jinyoung?” Mark whispers, breath hot on his face.

This is the first time Jinyoung is ever tongue-tied, and he cannot believe it’s because of Mark, the quietest boy he knows who doesn’t even speak proper Korean. Jinyoung regrets telling Mark to say what’s on his mind, because Mark has a lot of things to say it seems. And the more he says it, the more it looks like Mark understands Jinyoung so much, understands how the universe unravels before him, while Jinyoung is more than just a little lost.

“Jinyoung…” Mark calls out, so softly it was barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t hurt yourself.”

It takes all of Jinyoung’s willpower to swallow all his silent sobs, to blink back all of his tears because Jinyoung doesn’t know what feeling this is. The feeling that makes him feel like someone, for the first time in his life, actually cares.

He knows Mark notices how his shoulders slightly shook, he knows Mark was about to put his arms all around him to offer him a shoulder to cry on. But he’s Jinyoung, the mighty one, no affection no sentiment and Mark should not. So Mark did not, did not hug him because he would cry if Mark did, would press himself into Mark’s embrace so hard and let the world disappear all around them, and that would mean that Jinyoung is weak.

***

Mark tends to him in the safety of Mark’s own house. He won the fight, but he feels helpless. News will spread among gangs that he defeated Yugyeom, which means he may be the strongest guy in Seoul right now, but he feels vulnerable.

Vulnerable as Mark places a wet cloth over Jinyoung’s bleeding forehead. Vulnerable as Mark asks him to just “swallow the goddamn pill, it’s not gonna fucking kill you.” Vulnerable when Mark undresses him instead, to change into one of Mark’s sleeping shirts because his own limbs are too sore to move by himself. Vulnerable, as Mark crawled to the bed beside him, Mark’s forearm brushing his.

“Thank you,” was the words Jinyoung said when the room was already dark.

“For what?”

“Tending for me.” Jinyoung says, chuckling. “For not letting me carry my battle scars on my own.”

Jinyoung can feel Mark shift beside him, laying on his side to stare at Jinyoung with a subtle smile.

“Your friends never did this for you?”

Jinyoung smiles a bitter one. “What friends, Mark? I only have my watchdogs.”

Jinyoung doesn’t have to look at Mark to know that Mark is no longer smiling; face stoic. Mark reaches to hold Jinyoung’s arms and squeeze it a little.

“Then what am I to you?” Mark asks.

Friend, Jinyoung answers in his mind. But friends will leave, he fears. Families leave and nothing is eternal but Jinyoung has the word on the tip of his tongue. He wants Mark to be his friend, maybe someday his eternal.

“Jinyoung?” Mark asks again. Jinyoung has been too silent for too long.

Mark sighs. “You don’t have to answer me.”

“But--” Jinyoung starts, regretting instantly because he has no idea what he’s gonna say next.

The smile Mark offers was sad, and Jinyoung hates it.

“At least you let me tend to you, so I’m better than your watchdogs.” Mark says, smile getting a little brighter. “Can’t say I’m satisfied with it, though.”

Jinyoung notices the possessiveness in Mark’s voice. Maybe if Mark asks Jinyoung to give his everything, he’d gladly do so.

“You’re super quiet today, I wonder if our roles has changed.” Mark joked, hand still gripping Jinyoung’s arm.

Jinyoung smiles, because it’s once in a blue moon that Mark talks a lot, like today.

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m kind of too tired to talk, so I’m letting you do the talking.” Jinyoung says. “It’s weird, this is the first time I talk without looking into the other’s eyes. Usually I would stare at their eyes and would end up punching them on the face.”

“Enough punching for today.” Mark says with a chuckle.

Jinyoung then tries to lay on his side, facing Mark, but his sore body betrays him. “Aw fuck.”

Mark laughs. “Stay still! I saw your bruises, Jinyoung and you might have to give your body a rest.”

Jinyoung sighs and stays back to his position, try to face his head to Mark’s direction but his neck is stiff. “I can’t see you.”

“Just listen to my voice.”

Jinyoung sighs again. Then he hears Mark sigh, and a ruffle on the sheets and suddenly Mark is sitting in the empty space on the bed above his head, and Mark gently cradles his shoulders to pull him up a little and make his head lean on Mark’s lap.

“Better like this?” Mark says from above him, the edge of his lips curved up into a smile.

Jinyoung smiles back, and he knows that he looks shy and stupid and ugly and covered in band-aged bruises. “Yeah.” He answers softly, raising his hands to cover his oddly warm cheeks.

He sees Mark laughing from above him and he wonders why.

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asks, hands still covering half his face.

“Why are you covering your face?”

Jinyoung just feels so so so shy, and he never feels shy. “Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

Mark moves his hand away from his face and plays with his bangs instead. “You’re being ridiculously cute you know. This feels so out of character. You don’t look like you just made Yugyeom admit defeat.”

So Jinyoung just lets himself giggle. For the first time in his adolescent life he actually managed to giggle shyly, and let Mark push his bangs away so it won’t cover his eyes.

“See me better now?” Mark asks.

“Yeah.” Jinyoung smiles. He wonders if this is what being friends felt like, opening your heart so you can feel a little bit of happiness, thrill and excitement coursing through your blood. He wonders if he’s been living life all the wrong way because this feels way better than the time he beat up a guy who messed with him and better than winning over the strongest guy from Namyangju. He just stares up at Mark, who’s staring down at him with that same calm and bright eyes Mark had when Mark first approached him.

“You want me to tell you a story, Jinyoung?” Mark asks.

Jinyoung nods, and he wills himself to take Mark’s wandering hands on the air and clasp it on his chest. “Yeah.”

Mark looks surprised at the gesture, Jinyoung twiddling with the fingers of his hands. Jinyoung loves seeing Mark get flustered, and he never thought these little things would get into Mark more than collar-grabbing and kicking action.

“You’re playing with my fingers.”

“Hmm.” Jinyoung said. “You have nice fingers.”

Mark scrunches his eyebrows and Jinyoung smiles at the gesture. “Are you trying to pull off something here?”

“No.” Jinyoung says as a matter-of-fact. “Now tell me that story.”

Mark smiles instead, all teeth and his eyes turns into crescents that reminds Jinyoung of the moon. “First time I see you so eager to listen.”

“This was about that time I first said hi to you.” Mark starts, eyes looking forward. “I knew back then that you were trouble. I liked watching you, like you owned the whole world, like you feel the universe would bow down to your presence.”

Jinyoung doesn’t know where this is going.

“You enjoy the stares right, when people are afraid of you? It makes you feel powerful.” Now when Jinyoung looks at Mark again, it’s like he’s staring far into the distance. “I was like that too.”

“But I was wrong,” Mark says. Mark then plays with Jinyoung’s hand instead, lacing their fingers together. Jinyoung stares at their joined hands, gasping a little when Mark squeezed their hands together by softly pressing his palm with Mark’s fingers. “There’s something a lot stronger.”

“What is it?” Jinyoung asks.

“You’ll find it someday.”

***

It is the day of Mark’s birthday when he let himself get a hug from Mark.

Jinyoung doesn’t know of course, that it is Mark’s birthday, before he saw the blond carrying a gift box decorated with blue ribbons.

“What is that?” Jinyoung asks, curious.

“It’s a gift from my friend.” Mark says. “Today’s my birthday.”

“Oh.” was Jinyoung’s reaction. He never congratulated anyone on birthdays, he would occasionally forget his as well.

“Not even a happy birthday, Jinyoung-ah?” Mark says, the first Jinyoung has ever heard someone call him with such tone akin to friendship.

Jinyoung fidgets a while, then raises his hand. “Happy.. Birthday?”

Mark just laughs, swatting Jinyoung’s hand away. “It’s too late, say it when you mean it.”

Jinyoung can’t get mad. “You! You swatted my hand!” He complained, but it was just that, a complaint. If this involves a different person at another circumstance, maybe the ground they’re at will become a bloodbath, but it’s his sunshine.

“So what?” Mark asks.

Jinyoung stays quiet then, following Mark blindly. He does not remember when it started, but lately at afternoon times, when he finds no one worthy of bullying or stealing lunch money from, he will follow Mark and ask his watchdogs to stay behind. He doesn’t know if Mark realizes, but Jinyoung has some sort of respect when it comes to Mark, and decides by the story Mark told him before that Mark was some kind of fighter back where he comes from. Jinyoung doesn’t want to fight Mark.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice,” Mark says slowly, sitting at the rooftop of the campus, head up to stare at the sky. “But recently you’ve been following me.”

Jinyoung doesn’t sit, stands on the spot beside where Mark is sitting. “I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“Lucky for you I don’t challenge my gang members on a duel first.”

Jinyoung’s curiosity sparks. Mark never talks about him being in a gang before, but it seems now that there is an opening to talk about it. “Mark,” Jinyoung starts.

“Hmm?”

“Were you like, in a gang before?”

“I know you’d ask.” Mark says, eyes wandering again. “And no, I wasn’t.”

“But you said?”

“Jinyoung-ah, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Mark says, eyes glimmering with mysterious teasing.

“What’s your story?” Jinyoung asks, always so curious because it always looks like Mark has a million thoughts on his head.

Mark takes a stance on silence, and puts out his hand on Jinyoung’s lap. “Give me your hand.”

Jinyoung is hesitant at first, skinship is very foreign to him. “Why?”

“People here seems to do this a lot, hand holding, hugging.” Mark says. “You’re gonna keep me waiting?” Mark wriggles his waiting hand to ask for Jinyoung’s own.

“It’s weird for me.”

“For me too.”

“Then why?” Jinyoung says, wondering. Clearly Mark is going to do something mischievous.

“I want to know how it feels.”

So Jinyoung hesitantly places his hand flat on Mark’s palms. He can feel it sweating already, but Mark curls his fingers to fill the gaps of Jinyoung’s. Jinyoung tries not to make a noise.

“How do you feel?” Mark whispers. His voice was low and the wind was a little bit chilly, fall is going to come a bit early.

Jinyoung stays quiet, just lets himself bask in the chill of the September wind and the warmth. “Warm.” From Mark’s hand.

Jinyoung stares again at their intertwined fingers, then at Mark, who’s smiling goofily. “Warm,” Jinyoung says again. And now he’s smiling, because Mark is smiling at him and somehow the world is forgiving again. “Like the sun, is in the palm of your hands.”

Mark smiles and says words that Jinyoung would never forget all his life; “Be someone’s warmth, Jinyoung-ah.”

And suddenly Jinyoung wants to quit all this, stop trying to become the toughest guy in Seoul. Send all his watchdogs home and just live like an ordinary person, because he feels warm, truly, with Mark’s hands around his own, and he feels that Mark has power over him, the guy that won over the man from Namyangju. Is this what Mark was talking about? This kind of power?

“You have good in you, Jinyoung.” Mark says, still smiling and staring at Jinyoung’s eyes. “Others may not see it, you may not realize it, but I do.”

Then Mark lets their hands fall apart as he stands to lean against the railing of the rooftop. “I hate how early September has gotten colder.”

Jinyoung can’t help but listen to Mark as Mark continues to mumble about the weather. The sun is setting and the glow is a tinge of pink and orange, and Jinyoung doesn’t know if the sky has ever been this beautiful or he simply didn’t have the time to raise his head and see up the horizon. Jinyoung stands up, leaning at the railing beside Mark, and he watches too, with awe, and wonders if beauty like this can be kept forever.

Mark looks at him, eyes slightly glistening with the color of sundown. “Beautiful,”

Jinyoung looks at Mark, suddenly confused.

“Beautiful.” Mark says again, and Mark is looking at him. Not at the setting sun, but at him and he feels queasy in the pit of his stomach and Jinyoung knows Mark means beautiful as in the sun, because what else can he mean?

Jinyoung just stares, dumbly.

“If only it’s a little warmer.” Mark says, still staring at Jinyoung.

So maybe it’s the heaviness in Mark’s tone, that indicates there’s something more behind what Mark is saying. Or maybe it’s the setting sun, the tinge of orange and pink and the beam that reflected on Mark’s face. Or maybe it’s what Mark says, something about being warm. But Jinyoung doesn’t realize it, that he’s taking a step towards Mark, who’s taking half a step back.

“I- I can be your warmth.” Jinyoung says, arms reaching out.

Mark stood still, so Jinyoung takes his adrenaline (maybe it is adrenaline because his heart is pumping at an alarming rate) to brave himself to invade on Mark’s personal space. He wraps his arms around Mark’s middle and he almost faints at how comfortable this feels, how exciting this feels and just how good this feels, warmer than standing in front of a blazing fireplace.

It is just a hug, and for once he only wants to make Mark feel warm.

Jinyoung feels as if he has given up his title, everything. He’s a little scared, this feels like opening up, like he’s handing Mark something special. But he forgets everything and just hugs tighter because he’s scared, but Mark makes him feel stronger.

“Happy birthday, Mark.” Jinyoung whispers.

Then he feels it through his hug, the rigid Mark that seems to melt into him and sigh at his now sincere birthday wish. He forgets for a second, how to properly breathe, and he feels Mark’s arms reach up to cradle his own body, and he suddenly feels that he’s the one who truly needs the hug. He feels Mark’s fingers, again, at the nape of his neck, just like that time under the bridge in the field of reeds when Jinyoung beat that guy from Namyangju.

“Thank you, Jinyoungie.” Mark whispers into his ear, and Jinyoung just wants to be good for once.

***

Jinyoung believes that the wheel is always turning, so he called it when Jackson comes along and ruins Jinyoung’s life. Jackson is strong, he heard enough from half of the school how nice and powerful Jackson is and Jinyoung hates how Jackson carries himself with such confidence and carefreeness. Jinyoung hates him smiling, baring pearly white teeth that seems to capture the attention of the whole campus. Jackson is from Hong Kong, a smart fencer, a talented martial artist, a smart talker. Jinyoung is not jealous, but he hates how happy Jackson looks. He cannot actually believe someone is trying to act strong on his watch.

It finally happens when Jinyoung decides wants to look for some trouble. He purposefully stands on the way of Jackson on the main door of the academy, suddenly appearing out of the corner when he knows Jackson is going to come out. It was a perfect plan.

Jackson comes out, bumping Jinyoung all the way, and Jackson’s dropped books made a loud thud on the ground.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Jinyoung shouts, pushing Jackson on the chest.

Oddly Jackson doesn’t strike him back, just looking at Jinyoung with horror-filled eyes.

“I’m--I’m sorry.” Jackson says.

“Fucker can’t see the way!” Jinyoung says, and his gang of friends roars with laughter together with him.

Jackson stays quiet on the ground, watching as Jinyoung’s guys rob his wallet empty.

Jinyoung laughs and throws a 1000 won bill on Jackson’s face. “For transport money.”

Jinyoung does a final kick after throwing Jackson’s stuff on the ground. His watchdogs follows him, he can see them laughing and doing some kicking action before trailing behind.

But then he sees Mark, crouching and collecting Jackson’s stuffs into the backpack, zipping up, and finally lending a hand for Jackson to stand. He sees Mark’s face, worried as always, and it makes Jinyoung wonders if Mark’s worry-like expressions during his fights is actually for his victims instead of for him. Jinyoung glances back enough to see that Jackson’s expression is calm, collected, and in awe of Mark. Because who wouldn’t be in awe looking at the sun shine up close? Jinyoung feels it, the little bits of anger burning inside his chest, that he wants to hurt Jackson even more. He wonders why is Mark like this, to the blond guy from Hong Kong, when he’s never like that to any other Jinyoung has bullied. The curiosity kills him, makes him wonder if Jackson is special. Jinyoung hates it, hates it so much.

**Author's Note:**

> a/n - literally my first attempt at anything fic, inspired by Sanctuary!! HAHA plus this is super unbeta-ed, gonna try to update weekly, and constructive criticisms are very very welcome :D also i love markjin. don't everyone?


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